BFTP: Is it the head or the heart that makes a good librarian?

My friend Jennifer LaGarde writes in On Lost Library Books and the #BestPartofMyDay: 

... I landed at a school where collecting fines and keeping kids from checking out books, if they owed money, was just part of what had always been done, and I eagerly played along. I worked hard, every year, to collect every last dime that was "owed" to the library, and in the process made a lot of kids feel like they weren't welcome or that they were somehow suspect. It took me several years to pluck up the courage to decide I needed a do-over and to reset my circulation policies, so that they were more closely aligned to my core mission of helping students develop rich and authentic reading lives.  

And guess what? The number of books I lost as a result was minimal. I didn't end the year with empty shelves. Here's what happened instead:

• I developed relationships with kids who I would never have gotten to know before, because their debt to the library stood in the way. 
• I changed the library from a place of punishment to one of possibility. 
• I was able to get books in the hands of kids who would have had no reading material otherwise.
• My circulation statistics went WAY up.
• I retired from the role of book police and was promoted to the job of reading champion.
• I slept better at night.

And, ironically, I discovered that for kids who did lose materials, positive relationships are a far better motivator than the threat of not getting their diploma or not being admitted to a school dance. When kids love you and know that you love them, there's very little they won't do in order to not let you down.

If I could have new (or old) librarians read no other advice, Jennifer's words above would be it.

One of the happiest trends in professional reading over the past few years has been the emphasis on the value of and need for personal connections to our students. Knowing someone cares about how well you do in school is a critical for most kids, and too often that concern does not come from the home. It has to come from someone in the school itself.

What I loved about Jennifer's recollection is that the "heart" approach to getting library materials back was more effective than the "head" approach of fines and threats.

I suspect the heart approach works for motivating most adults too. Do your co-workers and those you may supervise know that you care about them and their success? Something I know that I will be thinking about. Thanks, Jennifer.

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Original post 1/25/18

What gives you peace of mind?

Increased anxiety seems to be a common symptom of the CORONA virus and the isolation many people feel because of it. This week's writing prompt from StoryWorth got me thinking about how I manage stress and worry. For what it's worth... 

What gives you peace of mind?

Pick battles big enough to matter, small enough to win. Jonathan Kozel

I’d be dishonest if I said I always had perfect peace of mind. As I write this entry on a cold January morning in Minnesota, I will admit to having worries. I worry there will be violence when Congress votes to confirm Biden as president. I worry the national debt will have a negative economic impact on my children and grandchildren. I worry that the COVID-19 virus might infect my friends and family - and that small businesses will go under because of government restrictions meant to curtail the spread of the disease. I worry that the slow drip in the water line to my toilet will get worse. 

Yet overall, I enjoy a fairly anxiety-free mindset. I take to heart Stephen Covey’s advice about knowing the difference between one’s Circle of Influence and one’s Circle of Concern. In The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, Covey writes, “Focus your energy and attention where it counts, on the things over which you have influence. As you focus on things within your Circle of Influence, it will expand.”

So this week, instead of stewing about the latest idiotic thing our president has done and ranting about it on a Facebook post, I will call a plumber. I will call my mother to check on her well-being. I will write this little essay for my kids. I will send a funny cat video to my grandsons. I will cook a meal for a friend. I will do volunteer grocery shopping for seniors. I will go for a good long hike and enjoy the beauty of the snow.

Over the course of my career, I found my “circle of influence” as an educator shifted. When I was a classroom teacher, I had a big impact on the 25 or so students in my classroom. I could teach them subject-pronoun agreement. I could help them interpret “Out, out, brief candle” from Macbeth. When I became a school librarian, my circle of influence grew to having an impact on all the students in the school, as well as their teachers. But the impact on each was less. I engaged with individuals for brief periods of time on an irregular basis. I was helpful, to be sure, but much of what I did like selecting good resources for the library did not have an immediate, measurable outcome. And finally, when I moved into the role of technology director and library supervisor, my circle of influence was even larger - every student, teacher, administrator, staff member, and parent - was impacted by the decisions I made and the work my department prioritized. But to say what I did made a significant difference to a single child required even a greater leap of faith. As an author and speaker, the occasional comment from someone at a conference about one of my articles or workshops, was the only sign that I influenced anyone through my work aimed at international audiences. 

But knowing that my impact lessened as my circle grew wider, did not really make me anxious, depressed, or sad. I was committed to improving schools and the experiences kids had in them by improving libraries and technology use. I, perhaps egotistically, kept making the ever longer leaps of faith I needed to feel I was making a difference. I did what I could.

In my personal life, I know that I cannot have a huge influence on the pandemic, but I can wear a mask when in public. I know that I can’t stop the increase in obesity rates in the U.S., but I can watch what I myself eat and get regular exercise. I have little control over environmental problems, racial inequities, or nuclear armament by Iran, but I can vote for the political leaders who I believe will work to help solve these issues. I will give to charities. I will volunteer. I pick up litter. While seemingly small actions, knowing I have at least some control over the things that worry me, is comforting.

Now in my dotage, believing that my family and friends are healthy, safe, happy - and still speaking to me - helps me sleep well. All members of my family know that I will always be there to support them, and I like to think they will be there should I need them as well. As my daughter says, “There will always be room for you in my basement, Dad.” Perhaps that brings me more peace of mind than anything.

Before there was Game of Thrones...

One of the pleasures of 2020 was having  time to re-read some of my favorite books. Novels by authors like Michner, Woulk, and Clavell are just as good a second (or third) time around as they were the first. But what I realized this year was that the mini-series made from some of these tomes of historial fiction are good to re-watch as well.

Yes, young'uns, there were miniseries before Game of Thrones, The Sopranos, Breaking Bad, and Edgerton. If I remember, Roots, North and South, and Rich Man, Poor Man were the first multi episode dramas I viewed back in the 70s.and early 80s. Watching a mini-seires of a dozen two hour episodes over the course of a couple weeks was a good deal more challenging than flipping on the Firestick and calling up the latest episode of The Crown. One actually had to be in front of the television, praying for good reception, at an appointed time and day. Even VCRs with the ability to tape broadcasts were still in the future for we poorly paid teachers. If you missed an episode, too bad.

Here are shows I watched last year that I would recommend as still very interesting and entertaining:

• Winds of War (1983) and War and Remembrance (1988) based on novels by Herman Woulk - great personal, comprehensive look at WWII .
• Shogun (1980) based on the novel by James Clavell - interesting story of a British sailor making his way in medieval Japan.
• Centennial (1978) base of the novel by James Michener - surprisingly "woke" history of northern Colorado.

OK, the soundtracks are loud and obnoxious. The characters a bit hammy at times. Some costumes are over-the-top (Centennial gets the award for best head wear). Richard Chamberlain is way too pretty. And they are all rather long.

But each looks historically accurate in costume and setting. Characters are three-dimensional. They don't shy away from the horrific episodes of the times in which they take place. The plots and characters are true to the original books. And they are damn entertaining.

Any "old" mini-series you would recommend, dear readers?